Meet Me At My Window
by MissRainicorn
Summary: It's 3 AM, and she's sitting on the windowsill. That's where he finds her. "Sequel" of sorts to 'Silly Jack'. (Jackunzel Week, day 1. Content warnings: allusions to depression, abuse and self-harm)


**_This story was written for Jackunzel Week, day 1. The prompt was Meet Me At My Window by Jack's Mannequin (I'd recommend to give it a listen, it's the prompt for the story after all, and also, it's a good song)._**

**_It is set in the same universe as my oneshot Silly Jack, and takes place a few months after. Enjoy!_**

* * *

He met her at her window at three AM.

He called it _her _window because he knew how she liked to sit there, on the windowsill, and draw her sketches, getting inspiration from the world outside, even when she was lost in a world of her own. When he saw her there, so concentrated, he never wanted to get her out of her daydreams.

However, at such an hour and with no lights on, she could hardly be drawing. He could see her face thanks to the dim moonlight entering through the glass, and he saw _that_ expression. Her eyes were empty, her lips pressed into a thin line, betraying a heart that was feeling hollow. He loathed that expression, and it wasn't the first time he had to see it.

"Punz" he called, startling her. Maybe his voice had come out a bit too severe, but he was certain he knew what she was thinking about. Her face shifted when she looked at him. She blushed lightly and bit her lip, knowing she'd been caught red handed.

"Jack" she barely said, nervously playing with her fingers. "I... I didn't expect you to be awake."

"I still wake up in the middle of the night sometimes, you know that" it was true. The nightmares had become less frequent, but they still haunted him, and some nights he'll wake up bathed in cold sweat and with his heartbeat drumming in his ears. When he did, he'd search for her with his hands, frantically, desperately, and he always found her immediately, lying beside him and sleeping blissfully. Then, he'd sigh, hold her close, and go back to sleep.

That night had been one of those nights, but Rapunzel hadn't been there for his hands to find. "You scared me to death for a second, you know that?" he frowned, his mouth curving into a displeased gesture. Rapunzel bit her lower lip, again; she always did when she felt uncomfortable or nervous, and she was both things now, Jack knew.

"I'm sorry" she said. She genuinely was. Jack knew that, too. He knew she hated it when she couldn't be there for him, and that she blamed herself for every time he needed her and they were apart from each other. She took the burden of his life onto her own, and he could never explain her just how much she'd done for him, and how much she still was doing by just... being _her_.

He sighed, stepping closer to her. "What were you doing, Punz?" she looked away from his eyes, still playing with her fingers in a nervous fashion. He saw her teeth clenching her lower lip again. The same lip he'd sometimes bite himself. "Just what's keeping you up at this hour?" Rapunzel was generally a heavy sleeper. She could never get enough sleep when Jack wasn't living with her, which he felt really guilty for, so she treasured the hours when she could sleep peacefully. Now that they were living together, it was much easier for them both. It was very odd to find her up this late.

He could tell she didn't want to tell him. It hurt him, a bit, but he himself had demons he couldn't bring himself to talk about, so it wasn't his place to blame her. Still, he could also tell that she was _not_ _fine_. "Punz" he called with his softest voice, his arms reaching forward to bring her close. "Please. You can tell me."

"I know" her voice was strangely thin. It felt as if it was a layer of thin, delicate glass that could break at any second. "I know, Jack, but..."

He could feel her trembling. She felt soft, warm, and especially small in his embrace. At that moment, she felt fragile.

"Is it _her_ again?" he didn't need to say a name, they both knew who he was referring to. The dark tone of his voice, the frown in his dim eyes betrayed it. Rapunzel's hands clenched the fabric of his shirt so hard, her knuckles went white and her fists trembled.

"Yes" there, the thin layer of glass broke. She burst into tears. "She – she messaged me again, Jack" she told him amongst her sobs. "I – I don't know why... I just..." she buried her face in his chest and cried, unable to keep talking anymore. Jack held her tightly against him, but not too much. He felt a fiery, primal rage boiling inside of him, and he was afraid his strength could hurt her.

It was the fourth time Rapunzel had changed her number over the past year. The fourth, and the woman still managed to find it, still managed to find her and make her cry. _How dare she?_

"Punz" he grabbed her shoulders so she'd be looking back at him. "Punz, the police has to know about this."

"N-no, Jack, I..."

"I won't stand for this any longer" he cut her off. The tone of his voice admitted no discussion, and he looked at her in all his seriousness. "I won't stand by and see her hurting you _again_. I won't. This has to stop, _now_."

"I... I thought it'd be over" she whimpered, her green eyes glistening from all the tears piling up inside them. "When I... when you... I thought..." she couldn't even put together a proper sentence, and covered her face with her hands to resume her crying. It pained him. It pained him so badly to see her this way. Was this how she felt when he saw him breaking down at night, after a nightmare?

To tell the truth, he'd thought it was over, too.

He'd known Rapunzel for two years when he started noticing the bruises and cuts hidden beneath her clothing, the wounds she covered with long sleeves and nervous smiles to convince everyone that everything was alright. It took months for him to get her to open up and admit how her mother was treating her. To admit how truly wounded she was, both inside and out. She didn't tell him then, but Jack knew the cuts had been self-inflicted. Gothel limited herself to treating her foster daughter like utter trash and lowering her self-esteem to the point of depression.

What was worse, Rapunzel thought her adoptive mother was right. Every word she said to her struck the girl like it was true, and the truth she saw in them wounded her, lowering her down into an endless hole she saw no hope in getting out of. She was delicate by nature; those words had made her fragile, and Gothel had delivered the final blow to completely shatter her.

It took a while to get her out of that house, but Jack was stubborn and filled with loath for the woman that had ruined the precious Rapunzel; law was on their side, and Gothel had been sent to prison for two years (a time far too short for what she'd done, Jack thought) and forced, by a restraining order, to stay away from Rapunzel. The girl was already an adult, according to the law, so she could move out by herself to this very same apartment, which she could pay for with some aid from social funds and from Jack himself.

It took such a long time for Jack to even begin to amend the life Gothel had broken. And now, she came back, messaging the phone her foster daughter with who knows what kind of words. Jack never let her read the texts. He was too afraid of the effect they'd have on her.

He took a hold of her hands, softly, and put them away so he could see her face and kiss her wet cheeks. "It's okay" his voice was reassuring, his touch was tender. "It's okay, love. I'm here" he ran a hand through her hair, her long, blond hair that made him think of golden summer days. "I'm with you."

"I know" she whimpered, holding onto him the same way he held onto her: as if their life depended on it. "It just – it hurts so bad."

"Yeah" he muttered, kissing her forehead and wiping her tears away. "I know, Punz. I'll fix it. I'll stop it. I promise" he said 'promise', but it sounded more like an oath. He'd go to the police tomorrow. He wasn't going to let Rapunzel be hurt, not again, not in front of him. She'd had enough pain for a lifetime.

He knew that, even now, it was hard for Rapunzel to accept herself. From time to time, he'd catch her staring at her reflection in the mirror, with a dissatisfied, even sad expression on her face, pinching at her stomach and pulling her hair. When he caught her doing that, he embraced her from behind and, nuzzling his face in her neck, described to her all the beauty he was seeing. He wished she could see herself through his eyes, so she could see the incredible, gorgeous person she was.

It had taken such a long time for her to recover. Jack had stood beside her, patiently, gently taking care of her. He let her lean on him whenever she needed it the most. He drew on her wrists and arms, and wrote nice words about her on her skin, so she'd stop cutting. He reminded her daily that he was there for her, that he was her friend and she was worth it; he encouraged her to keep living, getting through each day. Rapunzel was innocent and creative, and Jack saw how she started drawing on her wrists herself, and how her sketchbook drawings changed from dark, spine-chilling portraits of her own depression, to new, colourful and lighter things. She started to find inspiration in her own newfound health, and Jack started to see her smile, her true smile, more often. Somewhere along the way, he fell in love with the way she smiled while gliding the pencil across the paper.

Everyday, he kept reminding her he was there for her and that she was worth it; only now, he also made sure to tell her, and show her, how much he loved her.

Then, when Rapunzel was most fine, when they were most happy, the accident with his sister happened. And then, it had been Rapunzel's turn to support him through his own depression.

If nothing else, he wished to have been able to do for her half as much as Rapunzel had done for him.

"Jack" Rapunzel sighed, finally calming down and relaxing into his arms. "Jack..." he fell in love with the way she pronounced his name, like it was the most beautiful word ever said. "You're always saving me. Thank you."

"Well" he smiled. "You could use a hero, and I could use someone to save."

"Even someone like me?" she asked, her eyes gloom with an unspoken sadness. "Someone who's not brave? Who's not free?"

"I'm not brave, or free, either, Punz" he reminded her, lovingly caressing her face. It was true. None of them were truly brave before the demons from the past, the demons that insisted on coming back to haunt them both. "You saved me, too. Remember? You still save me, every night. And even if you hadn't, I would still be here. I will wait for you, always."

"Because you love me?" she smiled, a small, but genuine smile, in-between pink cheeks. He smiled back, sliding a hand behind her neck, entwining his fingers in her hair and bringing her face close to his.

"Yes" he planted a kiss on her curved lips. "Because I love you."


End file.
